IrKiOOMifi TO THK NATIONS. ' ' • Bit. B. STODDilAi jrelcome, a thousand weioomep! Our emotion f Demands a speech we have not; it demand®^ < fhe unutterable largeness of the ocean, > ' i T lip immeasurable broadness of the lands p ' •that own us mantel*, v ho is hr shall speak Wilis language for us? from what mountain peakt Ind in the rhythms of what epic sons. At once serene and strong ? ten thousand welcomes! It is amah, Ch "lsters! ye have done in coming here; F\<r from the hour ye touch "'©ur peaceful shores, ye are peaceful,equal, dear S » Hot with exultations, 0 Sister, Mother nations! Do we receive j our comiiig; for more than many Junes'with ye: do ye see it ? It Is what is to be Come day among your myriads, who will no more obey; gut, peaceable or warring, will then find oat the way Themselves to govern; if they tolerate Kaisers, and Kings, and Princelings, as to-day, •ft will be because they pity and are too good to hate, 5 he Kew World is teaching the Old World to be free; This, her acknowledgment from these, is more * Than all that, went before: Henceforth, America, Man looks up to Thee, Not down at the dead Republics ! Rise, arise! . j That all men may behold thee. Be not proud; be humble and be wise; And let thy head be bowed To the Unknown, Supreme One, who on high Has willed thee not to die! Be grateful, watchful, brave; See that among thy'childreu none shall plunder, Nor rend asunder-- ' Swift to detect and puniBh, and strong to shield and /save! Shall the drums beat, trumpets sonnd, And the cannon thunder round ? jfro, these are warlike noises, and must cease; • Not time, while the whole world from battle rests, The Commonwealth receives her honored guests-- » ,ttbeoelebrates no triumphs but of Peace. -Seribiurr for August. THE MADE BELLE. It *as a sultry day in late July. The ' ocean breeze failed to dispel the fever of the air that waited impatiently for the fulfillment of the promise, that lay broad- ~<i|y legible along the eastern horizon, of a • I'toming thunderstorm. The sultriness and impatience that per vaded the atmosphere, thirsting for the • ' excitement of electrical volleys and a flfmh of impetuous rain, also pervaded the mental atmosphere of a group of idle young men who lounged upon the shady corner of a hotel piazza killing time un- & fil the dinner hour. " Celia Carr was the belle last year," gaid Ned Grosvenor, " and we shall not • look upon her like again.'" ' "The aAay of beauty at present isnot ' alarming," observed Sam Dent. " The Brewsters are nice girls; Miss Fanning may be called quite stylish, Miss Hay- ward decidedly so ; Jennie Hammond will be a capital creature, but she is rather ' bread-a nd-butterish' yet; her Bister is a schooled coquette. Adele Fer ris is the belle so far." " I never pay court to beauties," said Armand Du Bois. " When a girl ex pects every who beholds her to be at her feet, as a matter of course, I pre fer to pique her, for some time, at least, with indifference." " There have been several arrivals to day," said Grosvenor, " Miss Monroe among the number. Look out for Miss Monroe, Du Bois. She isn't a beauty .. -.. exactly, but--" " Let us make a belle," suggested Ar thur Lindsley. " Let us take some mod erate girl and idolize her, one and all of , us. Not ridiculously, but just enough - to turn her head and have all the other dear creatures dying of jealousy." W ' " What will you make her of ?" asked Sam. " Where's your material ? Pro duce your belle-metal, Lindsley." h " She must be a novice," said Grosve nor. " And susceptible," said Sam. , "But not too susceptible, or there'll be no fun in it," said Dick Wilhurst. "She must not be a beauty," said Du i Bois. " Nor a stupid," said Lindsley. Wanted--a belle. So stood their agreement, when all minor tintinnabula tions received an obligatory knell from . , " That tocsin of the soul, the dinner-bell." f > Two days later a party arrived at the hotel, who were registered as "Mr. Wolf, Mrs. Wolf, and Miss Wolf, of C ,"and on the same ^fternoon "Lindsley announced, triumphantly, - " I've found the girl. No, don't ask use what she's like. Nothing startling, I promise you. Just a passable sort of a rather lady-like nobody. The raw ma terial, that's all; and that's what we want. A mighty pretty little foot she had, though, peeping from under her water-proof cloak. But plain, unmis- '• takably plain and unpretending, I as sure you. Just the nondescript sort of thing we require lor our xiiaue belie." , A more inviting drawing-room no sum- ~ mer hotel could boast. Given the lights and the music and what volatile crea tures could desire a better field for the dance ? Easily disencumbered, too, and convertible for private theatricals, tab leaux, and games, its entertainments were famed. An occasional dull day could be endured in anticipation of the unfailing oe witching qualities of its "falling grace." In this inviting drawing-room Miss Irene Wolf made her debut, clinging Tather closely to the side of her mother until the music struck up. The dance began. The young and shy stranger found herself introduced to a number of agreeable young men. Everv one seemed pleased with her. Everything she said, everything she did, proved to be just the happy word of the moment or the happy act. " It has been such a delightful evening," she said to her mother, when, after midnight, she lingered to talk over the novel event. "I was a silly girl to dread the begin ning so much. How kind every one is !" Happily she was not mediumistic, to know the comments made upon her by w Jier gentle sisterhood of the house. She came in mention quite disparagingly in contrast to Miss Monroe, likewise a debutante of the evening--a young ladv just returned from a tour in Europe, who had brought the "loveliest cos tumes " from Pingat's and Worth'f,; in one of which, purple and pale blue, ' • with rococo jewels and a wonderful , • ~ fringe, she had appeared that night. t: > Wasn't it amiable," said Miss Pan- : uing, " in Ned Grosvenor and other fel lows of our set to take up that bewil dered little Backwoods? Poor thing! I hope they will not drop her flat all at Drop her? This was the last thougtft likely to occur to the kind young men they no such intent. On the con trary, they congratulated themselves up on the fact that Irene Wolf was not only just the thing they wanted for their made belle, but a nice sort of a girl, and a good dancer thrown in. As time rolled on, sisterly solicitude tor the ultimate fate of "Baokwoods"be- came extinct. Propitious circumstansces jelevated "the poor thing" to "that Miss Wolf." Favorite partner of the dance, abettor of games, receiver of the prettiest bonbonnieres and the loveliest flowers, the first-thought-of-invitation for the ride, drive, and walk, the queen of the picnic, and the belle of the ball. "I asked Sam Dent," said the beautiful Miss Ferris, ' 'what was the charm of that Miss Wolf. He said it was simply the \je ne sair quoi' which always at tracts men, but that women invariably fail to perceive." "I always knew," pondered the de vout heart of Mamma Wolf, who, with her beast-of-prey cognomen, reflected upon the vexed question of "what's in a name" the most lambent possible light --"I always knew that our Irene had the disposition of an angel; but I never icaliZcu before that my child was the raving beauty I find she is." As the season advanced, the triumphs of the made belle lost none of their bril liancy. Her success began to reflect credit upon her makers. Every day she seemed more lovely, every day more worthy of preferenoe. For is there & cosmetic like praise ? Is there a topic like smiles ? It is worth while to a woman to have a credulous heart, if only for the beauti fying effect of flattery upon her grace and complexion. Irene Wolf, in her midsummer expe rience, thought that watering-place fife was an episode of paradise. But the serpent always crawls into Eden. And in Irene's paradise the intruder had, as in Raphael ? picture, a woman's face. Miss Hammond thought it her duty to confide to ML s Wolf a secret that nad been intrusted by Dick Wilhurst as something which he considered "too good to keep." imagine the delicacy of the self-imposed act; for the secret was no other than the fact that the belle of the season was the creature of a joke, the envied idol of the summer literally nothing more than "a block of wood or stone," at whose efficacy the priests of its worship mocked. Miss Hammond performed her self- imposed duty without trepidation. If in the rivalry of the season she had »al- lowed herself to feel bitterness, and if malice lay in her motive, she was not re warded by the effect upon her victim of her astounding revelation. In listening, to the humiliating tale, given in strict confidence and without suppression of any stinging detail,, Irene remained calm, of fering no interruption or exclamation. Her heart, indeed, beat violently, her color went and came. When the whole story was ended, she pondered a minute, and said: "Do you believe this, Miss Hammond ? I hardly can. I think these gentlemen --these friends of yours--are too well- bred to have placed a girl, an unoffend ing stranger, in such an ignominious po sition. No! Do not trouble yourself about this story. I feel sure these men have better hearts." But, oh, the storm that swept over that bared bit of palpitating mechanism, the woman's heart, in the darkness of the night. The pain, the tantalizing tor ment, the bewildering doubt. Could it be true? Let the careful memory, the mlm judgment, take up the facts. Alas, the story was not without its corrobora ting proofs! The first night of anguish that sweeps across the pillow of a young girl robs it forever of all the white roses of which girls' pillows are made. Thenceforth the softest is but ruffled linen in which the head rests. In the morning Irene awoke--for at dawn she caught one miserable half hour's sleep--awoke for the first morn ing of her life upon a flat, stale, unprofit able world. What pleasure was there to a made belle in fixingh er blonde hair at the glass ? The first thought of the child had been this: " Oh, how I wish I could tell mother!" But she reasoned with her self, " No, it is better I should bear it myself. And father, dear father, how he would resent this cruelty ! how much he loves his poor little girl! He must never, never, never know." The evening after Mis Hammond's du tiful act Irene was beautiful--really beau tiful for the first and, perhaps, for the last time in her life. She came down into the drawing-room arrayed in an excellent Paris dress; for her mother, whose ma ternal instinct had been aroused to the perception that Irene's costumes were not the style of those worn by her com panions, had purchased for her darling, at an immoderate cost, from one of those fashionable modistes who follow in the wake of the summer-faring gay world the very last importation of draperied grace. Irene came down into the drawing- room attired like a little princess; but it was not that which made every eye dis cover she was a beauty at last. It was the hectic rose-leaf on her cheek, the scarlet of her lips, the violet shadow about her eyes, the mystical shadow upon young eyelids that grief has at last kissed ; it was the kindled excitement of conflicting pain and pride, the quick flame that made her gentle, fawn-colored eyes shine steel and gold, gold and steel, and that illumined into positive, potent brilliancy her modest, softly-tinted, pleasantly-featured, but never-before- startling face. She was really beautiful, and every one said so that night. The belle, without possibility of mistake. But to those who knew her, and were with her frequently, or watched her closely from that time forth, there was something missed in Irene that hitherto had part in herself--the joyous confi dence, the innocent abandon, the quiet but genuine unaer-tone of real happiness, had fled. With all her pride, she was too engenuous to conceal from those who cared for her that her perfect peace was lost. Our friendly young men held a con sultation upon tliis point. " Mark me," said Sam Dent, " I know something of girls, and that girl has fallen in love. Mark me, has fallen mi love with one of us! I only hope, since I'm an engaged man, that it's not me." Du Bois looked infinitely self-con scious, but did not speak. " Don't trouble yourself, Sam," said Dick Wilhurst, with insinuating self- assertion. " I happento know she hasn't been such a fool as that." " We've played too deep," said Gros venor. " Upon my Vford it hasn't been right. We've had our fun, but, by Jove, it has been hard upon the girL" " Well," said graceless Dick, "it isn't a wrong that can be made right. If its me she is in love with--and--but--well --n'importe. If it's me, I don't care if I do become a victim. 'Tis a cool three hundred thousand. It might be worse." " Wilhurst,"exclaimed Lindsley, with flashing eyes, "take care. Miss Wolf is too true and good a girl to be lightly spoken of, in my presence at least. A girl that any man may be proud to make his wife." "Hear! hear!" cried Dick. "Ex cuse me, friends. I meant to praise, net to scoff. What greater compliment can be paid to a made belle than to ring the change out of her--ring the changes, I mean. Lindsley, my dear fellow, I pass. Take her, and a thousand bless ings go witii you, my boy!" "Lindsley is right," said Sam Dent. " The girl has metal in her." "Who ever heard of a bells that hadn't metal in her?" asked Dick.' "Nonsense! but I tell you there's, a genuine ring to her." "Of course." 44 And a smart tongue, asl can testify, when she's put to it," said Grosvenor. 441 like a woman who can hold her own." 44Her own tongue? So do I," said Dick. " Oh, I'm sincere. Irene Wolf is all right. Hurrah for our made belle! She's trump. Lindsley, you're a suc cess., Well, good-night, boys; I'm off. By-by, Lindsley. Bang the belle--ding- dong?" The feminine portion of the house had not been so sensitively aware of the change in Irene. The truth is, they were too thoroughly engrossed in gi won derful event to condescend to trifles. The event was no other than the unex- Eected arrival at this delightful sea-side otel of an English lord, a bachelor, crossed in love abroad, it was rumored, and come to America expressly to marry. A live lord! One and all of the fem inine portion of the house fixed heart and soul upon him at once. There was no turning back from the plow ; there was no dallying with time to be " well off with the old loves," or loss of haste in going first to bury one's dead. The affair demanded, or commanded rather, a religions zeal and dispatch. 44 Up and strike I" was the motto of every Ama zonian ambition whose bewitching arch ery suddenly fixed upon this shining bull's-eye. If the thought of "Mrs." had to any one been sweet, the thought of "My Lady," " My Lady Lindehurst," was in comparably a treat. It was, of course, necessary to be pre sented to 44 My Lord" first. And Lord Lindehurst, who had been thrown by accident of foreign travel into intimate relations with Grosvenor and Du Bois, came specially introduced. He was le gitimately a prize of the set. Not until a fortnight had elapsed did it become faintly rumored that Lord Lindehurst, whose attentions had so far been generously general, had "taken particularly " to Irene Wolf. A torrent of indignation swept through the liouse. Miss Hammond felt her plane of duty so broadened that she actu ally contemplated confiding Dick Wil- hurst's secret, "too good to keep," to the young Englishman--to illuminate his note-book as a characteristic episode of American manners and life. She was delayed somewhat in her benevolent in tent, for the reason that the live lord was not easily approached. As for Irene, when she felt„ that the illustrious stranger was unfeignedly at tracted by herself, she experienced some womanly tumults of satisfaction. He, at least, was sincere. This lover, at least, was unaffected in his marked pref erence by any latent relish for a joke. "He did not make me" she very naturally, and with some grateful sense of restored dignity, said. The young nobleman, an unassuming youth, who seemed hardly to appreciate the furore he had created, was rather an exception to his countrymen in his per sonal history. But of that history it is only necessary to say that the rumor of his having been crossed in love was not correct. He had been crossed in mar riage, not in love. His own temper-- far from a base sort--had made the cross by decidedly refusing a match proposed for him upon worldly principles alone. Personally, Lord Lindehurst was a man who, without a title, would not have been popularly remarked. He was a traveled, but not a "society," man ; ob servantly, not experimentally, educated; nor was he particularly intellectual,, But he possessed an agreeable presence, re fined manners, an ample fortune, gmd an excellent heart. He had a presentiment that he should find his wife in the New World, and his presentiment was fulfilled. He fell in love at first sight with Irene Wolf. The night of his arrival was the night of Irene's beauty. In whatever degree she faded from ner perfect brilliancy af ter that, his kindled imagination sup plied the defect. He saw her first in the apotheosis wrought in her by the one cruel moment of her life. He never al tered from his faith in her bright su premacy from that time forth. For a fortnight he studied her unob- served*and 44 afar off;" then he asked to be presented, and from that time he de voted himself to her with an increasing devotion. At the close of the season their engage ment was announced. The refined prejudices of the young lord were not disturbed even by a pro longed visit in the Western home of Papa and Mamma Wolf. He found there what he esteemed most, the aris tocracy of a heart, It was a long wedding journey that Irene took, and for many months and even years she had no visible part in her first-loved Western life. But her image wa-i idolized in that home. 44 My bttle girl" was the theme of incessant delight; and dearly as her affection clung to those who had filled completely her childish faith and trust, she never repented her choice. She loved her husband as truly as he loved her. 441 was made for him," she said, both first and last. PROF. BRAINABD, of Middlebury Col lege, a clergyman, recently gave his father-in-law a beating. He had been out riding with his wife, using Rock well's horse, and when he got back Rock well intimated that the animal had been driven too hard, whereupon Brainard jumped from the carriage, and, having given the horse a whipping, knocked down his father-in-law and struck him over the head with the butt end of the whip. THE GREES-EYET) MOBSTER. A Jealous Husband Kllia His Wife and then Cuts His Own Throat. The village of Pemberton, Pa., was recently the scene of a terrible domestic tragedy, the particulars of which, as chronicled below, we glean from the New York papers: In 1856 Sheppard Pratt Wiley married Margaret Kinney, of Pemberton, lived with her four years, and obtained a divorce from her on the charge of adultery. Four years afterward he was married to Miss Susie Gale, a young and attractive vil lage girl. The divorced wife continued to live in the place, and still lives there. Wiley had accumulated considerable property, but, in spite of that and his handsome young wife, he led an un happy life. He was inordinately jeal ous, and his disposition led him to such extremes that he frequently charged his wife with unfaithfulness, and serious quarrels resulted. But to smother scan dal Mrs. Wiley continued to live with her husband. For a year past Wiley has been in receipt of anonymous letters charging his wife with infidelity. He frequently charged her with the crime, and she always protested her innocence. He became a monomaniac on the sub ject: A fortnight ago Wiley received the following letter: 44 Ask your nephew, Dr. Jake, who the father of your child is. He knows it ain't yours, and laughs in his sleeve with your dear, innocent Susie. What an accommodating hus band you are." On the receipt of this letter Wiley left his home. Dr. Jacob Wiley was his nephew, a worthy young man, who had been a frequent and fa vorite guest at his uncle's house. Wiley 's conduct became so singular that Mrs. Wiley consulted a physician and several of her husband's friends as to the pro priety of having something done for him. They saw nothing alarming in him, they said, but promised to have a watch kept over him. On last Sunday morning Mrs. Abigail Orth, who occupied a room in Wiley's house, adjoining the bedroom of Mrs. Wiley, says about 7 o'clock she heard a knock at the back door. She looked out and saw Mr. Wiley standing there. Somebody admitted him, and presently she heard the murmur of voices in Mrs. Wiley's room. In a few minutes she heard Mrs. Wiley utter a shriek, and then say in an appealing voice: 4 4 It is not true, Shep. Please don't kill me. I'll go away. I'll go away." Wiley replied in a savage tone: 44 It's too late; we've got to die." A dull blow followed this, and Mrs. Orth ran out of her room in terror, and alarmed Mr. Moffatt, a neigh bor, by telling him to go to Wiley's as soon as possible, as he was killing his wife. Moffatt hurried to the house. Mrs. Wiley lay on the floor. Blood was pouring from a deep wound in the tem ple, and a frightful gash in her neck. She was dead. Near her lay a small hatchet covered with blood. In front of a bureau in the room stood Wiley. He had a razor closed in his hand, and was gazing with a look of horror on the dead body of his wife. He had not noticed the entrance of Moffatt, and when the latter stepped up to him and laid his hand on his shoulder and said : 44 Shep, what in God's name have you done?" he started back in terror. A savage expressisn al most instantly spread over his face, how ever, and he replied : 44 What is that to you ? I've had a call to do a fearful duly. I don't want to be interfered with, for I'm not half through." Wiley then opened the razor and made a motion to draw it across his throat. Moffatt seized hold of him and attempted to take the razor from him, but the madman threw him to the floor and raised the weapon to kill Moffatt. The latter, by. a quick movement knocked the weapon from Wiley's hand. He then sprang to regain possession of it, when Moffatt took ad vantage of this to escape from the room. He summoned aid of persons who were passing, and the party entered the house and found the bedroom door locked. They broke it down. Wiley had com pleted his bloody work. He lay on the bed, his head nearly severed from his shoulders, dead. In the absence of a Coroner the bodies were taken in charge by a Justice of the Peace, who ordered an investigation. Mrs. Post, the di vorced wife of Wiley, was called to the stand and strictly questioned as to the anonymous letters. She denied all knowledge of their authorship or any thing relating to them. The feeling against her was very strong, and as she left the office she was hooted at and jostled by the crowd." Drowned Like Cats. * On the same evening detachments of infantry patrolled the streets of Stam- boul, and after midnight, when the ordi nary population was in bed, suddenly pounced down upon several assemblies of Softas, who, under the pretense of devotion, were busy plotting in the smaller mosques of the Mussulman quarters. There does not seem to- have been any resistance offered, and if there were any spectators of the raid, they have made no sign ; but it is certain that 150 gentlemen in long tunics and white turbans were quietly takes on board a couple of transports lying in the Golden Horn, where they were joined by sixty persons of the Circassian per- 1 suasion. One of the officers of the troops on duty, from whom the tale has reached me, declares that there were no remon strances made, no questions at all asked. The poor wretches appear to have ac cepted their fate with the utmost stoicism, as the tugs steamed out to the Sea of Marmora, where, one after the other, 210 men were dropped into the water and sent by this short sea passage to the Paradise of Mohammed, with a thirty-two-pound shot fastened to their feet. Now, all this is very well known to every resident of Constantinople. - -- Constantinople Letter in New York Times. Cremation in South Carolina. It has been eighty-four years since Henry Laurens, of South Carolina, directed that his body should be burned after death--instructions which were faithfully carried out. The same State is soon * likely to have another experi ment in cremation--Mr. Henry Berry, an old and wealthy citizen of Marion county, who died a few days since, hav ing left positive commands in his will that his executor should have his body burned after the accepted manner of the cremationists. The executor is Mr. forfeiting all right and claim to his estate, he will probably follow them out to lh§ letter. mercantile Failures. Dun, Barlow k Co.* sued their tabular statement of the mer cantile failures for the second quarter of the current calendar year. The exhibit is far from cheering, though it is less gloomy than it was for the first quarter of the year. The whole number of fail ures during the quarter just past is 1,794, against 2,806 during the preceding quarter, and the total liabilities were $43,771,273, against $64,644,156--a de crease of 1,012, <?r about 36 per cent, in the total number, and of $20,872,883, or about 32.3 per cent, in the total liabili ties. This is a very decided improve ment upon the first quarter of the year. But a further comparison shows a greater number of failures during the last quar ter than the average for any equal period since reliable, records of failures have been made, except in 1875. The liabili ties, however, were exceeded , in 1857, 1861, 1873, and 1875. For the six months ended June 30, the whole number of failures was 4,600 against 3,870 during half of 1875, and against 3,870 during half of 1875, and the liabilities were $108,415,429, against $100,530,176 for the half of 1875. Prob • ably both the number and amount of failures for the past six months have been exceeded several times before dur ing periods of equal length, as in 1857, 1861, and 1873, when panics caused the fall of many houses during short periods of time. For the past two years the failures have been much more evenly distributed. During the past six months the average liabilities for each firm fail ing have been about $23,600, against an average of about $26,000 in 1875, $26,- 600 in 1874, and $44,000 in 1873. In the Dominion of Canada the number of failures during the second quarter of the year was 381, against 477 during the first quarter, and the liabilities were $5,276,- 206, against $7,418,030--a decrease of a little more than 20 per cent, in number, and not quite 29 per cent, in liabilities. The average liabilities for the whole period of six months were about $14,800, or about $8,800 less than the average liabilities in this countir. This differ ence represents in part the difference in the scale upon which business is done in the two countries, and in part the differ ence in prices, which probably is not less than 20 per cent. In both the number of failures and the amount of liabilities New York takes the lead, as we should expect. Massachu setts comes next, Pennsylvania next, Illinois fourth, Ohio fifth, and Michigan sixth. The following will show the num ber of failures, and the amount of liabil ities in,, these six States for the six months ended June 30 : No. Liabilities. $28,969,041 14,862,378 7,689,449 9,870,900 4,480,864 4,457,844 CHANGED HER MIND. sknucTs raoic THK OORHEBFONDKNC* or A LADY. Dear BelleI went to church last nipiit And «*w your friend: why he's a fright At leant I think so; what is there pn§w About his looks that made you say ; That I'a admire him. Goodness -S He's homely, Belle, ae he can be, I f Monetroua nose, retreating forehead And goggle eyes; I think he's hm rii. * * * I've Been that Mr. Knox again-- Your friend I mean, that homely mu Of whom I wrote--and I declare I must admit he has an air About him, that one must admire. But, BeUe, I think I soon shall tire Of his rude manners; why the ™«T. Stared till I had to use my fan. * * * I went last night to the soiree, And who, think you, chanced there to be Why, Charley Knox ! we stayed till foui^- I danced with him six timex--or more,' And he has asked me--don't you tell- To go hirr. nest time ; ao*. BdSto. I'm not in love. You'll laugh I know- But still I say he's not my beau. * • * O, Belle! O, Belle! what do you ttitwlr Has happened. I can't sleep a wink Until I've tqld my dearest friend; O, Belle! rhy girlhood's at an end, That Charley Knox I O, dear, O, my ! I don't know whether to laugh or oiy I never yet did feel so queer-- ' Joat think) I am engaged ! my dear. New York ....V 892 Massachusetts 408 Pennsylvania 309 Illinois 299 Ohio 263 Michigan 252 The following table, showing the number of failures and the amount of liabilities in the United States from 1857 to 1876, inclusive, will convey a tolerably clear idea of the mercantile disasters that have occurred since the culmination of our speculative movement. The totals for the current year are estimated at twice the totals for the half year just closed: No. «' Amount. 185 7 4,932 $291,750,000 185 8 4,225 95,749,000 185 9 3,913 64,394,000 186 0 ...3,676 79,807,000 186 1 6,993 207,210,000 1862 2,652 22,019,300 186 3 485 6.864,700 186 8 2.608 63,774,000 1869 2,799 75,0f)4,000 187 0 3,551 88,242,000 1871 2,915 86,252,000 1872* . . . 9 4,069 121,056,000 1873 5,183 228,499,000 1874 5,830 155,239,000 1875! 7,740 201,060,358 1876 8,200 216,830,858 The Presidency. An interesting article on " Presidential Aspirants," in the University Herald, is concluded as follows: But, whatever the newspapers and political necessities of to-day may demand, the people in the past have trusted well-known public men and elected them to their highest office. Most of our Presidents were well known to the people when elected, as the follow ing table will chow. Of tho eighteen occupants of the Presidential chair-- Three had been Vice Presidents : Ad ams, Jefferson, and Yan Buren (not counting Tyler, Fillmore and Johnson). Five, Secretaries of State: Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, J. Q. Adams, Van Buren and Buchanan. Five, Foreign Ministers : Adams, Jef ferson. Monroe, J. Q. Adams, Harrison and Buchanan. Eight, United States Senators : Mon roe, J. Q. Adams, Jackson, Van Buren, Harrison, Tyler, Pierce, Buchanan and Johnson. Ten, Members of Congress: Madison, Jackson, Harrison, Tyler, Polk, Fill more, Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln and Johnson. Seven, Governors of States or Terri tories : Monroe, Jackson, Yan Buren, Harrison, Tyler, Polk aud Johnson. Two, Members of the Committee for Drafting the Constitution: Washington and Monroe. One, Speaker of the House of Repre sentatives: Polk. . «. Two had never held any civu office : Tajlor and Grant. Two held office after retiring from the Presidential chair : J. Q. Adams was a Member of Congress, and Johnson was a United States Senator ; both died hold ing these positions. It is worthy of attention that none of our noted orators have succeeded in being elected to the office. A Perpetual Traveler. Twenty years ago a Liverpool steam packet company washed to buy land of a woman. She sold it cheap, but got a clause in the agreement that during her whole life she and a companion might at any time travel free in tho company's vessels. The day after the bargain she sold her furniture, let her house, and went on board the first outward-bound vessel. Since then she has lived on some ship of the company's, accompanied by a woman companion, for whom she advertises, and whose passage money she pockets. She has made over $10,- 000 in this way. IN England, iron is rolled into sheets Berry's son, and, as he will fail to carry j as thin and as flexible as paper, and not out his father's directions on pain of > easily torn. Pith ana Point. , A SUMHBB-T process--Interviewing the thermometer. THE Crows have caws to per Sioux their old enemy.--Graphic. "I AM so thirsty," said a boy in a corn field. "Well, work away," said the in dustrious father. "You know the prophet says, 'Hoe, everyone that thirsteth.'" THE gypsies have a saying to the effect that "an ass that carries you is better than a horse that throws you off." It is calculated to inspire respect for the ass. A TKA3SF was kicked out of a saloon and felt grieved about it. " By the way he moved me," he said, gently touching his coat-tails. " I thought it was the first of May." BAYARD TAYLOR'S tribute to woman in his poem is indeed beautiful. There is no time when a female looks so noble, so determined and so inspired as when she is engaged in nailing up a rat-hole. --St. Louis Olobe-Democrat. A SECRETARY commissioned to report as to the manner in which a certain theater was managed in France, report ed : " The conductor of the orchestra has not played a note since his arrival. If he oontents himself with making ges tures, I suggest that he be discharged." "MY friends!" said a builder whose health had been drunk at a dinner in cele bration of the completion of a public hall which he had constructed, "My friends ! I would gladly express my feel ings, did I not feel that I am better fitted for the scaffold than public spew ing !" " WHAT on earth am I to do with that incorrigible son of mine ?" inquired an anxious jather of a friend. "Dress him in shepherd's plaid," was the reply. " Why, what possible benefit would that be ?" demanded the wondering parent. " It would at least be a way of keeping him in check." DAVIE:--"Canyegie's apipe, John?" John--"Oh, aye." (Hands him one al most empty.) Davie:--"Hae ye ony to- baccy?" John--"Yes, yes, lad; I can gie that tae," (Hands him a "fill.") Davie (after filling)--"Hae ye a match, John ?" John (to third person standing by)_"Guidness, he has naething but the jaws." "WHATmade you quit the East?" said a man in Nevada to a new comer. "I got into trouble by marrying two wives,' was the response. "Well," said the other "I came out here bccause I got into trouble by marrying only one wife. "And I," said a bystander, "came here because I got into trouble simply be cause I promised to marry one." "ARE you going to make a flower bed here, Judkins?" asked a young lady of the gardener. "Yes, miss, them's tne orders," answered the gardener. " Why, it will quite spoil our croquet ground." " Can't help it, miss, them's your pa's orders. He says he'll have it laid out for horticulture, not for hus bandry!" TWO LIVES. Born--he grew to manhood fair. Weak--he strayed from mother's care. Mad--he wed a woman low. Drunk--he dealt a deadly blow. Hung--he broke a mother's heart. Wrong--e'en from the very start. Born--he grew to manhood fair. Strong--he prized a mother's care. Loved--he wed.a maiden pure, • Kind--he helped the needy poor. Dead--is mourned by every one. Good--O ! true and faithful son ! SOME gentle youth or good-hearted olt man left a pin on the seat of a Wood ward avenue car. It was a pin bent uj in curious shape, and was left there t* carry out a purpose. The man wh swung himself aboard that car near th City Hall and sat down with a sigh gc up with a yell. In his great surprisi he leaped off the car and shouted " Mad dog around 1" but there were n dogs of any sort under the seat. Whe he discovered what had " raised " hii he was much chagrined. Said he : thought I could lick most an man, ride any horse', stand any sicknet and run for any office, and yet this cor temptible little pin completely ups| me."--Free Press. ' SONG. What good gift can I bring thee, O thou dearest % All joys to thee belong; ; Thy praise from loving lips all day thou hearest,; Sweeter than any song. j For thee the sun shines and the earth rejoices In fragrance, music, light: /! The spring-time wooes thee with a thousand voioj For thee her flowers are bright; Youth crowns thee, and love waits upon thy splendt Trembling beneath thiue eyes: f Thy morning sky is yet serene and tender, ' Thy life before thee lies. What shall I bring thee, Othou dearest, fairest? Thou boldest in thy band My heart as lightly as the rose tt ou wearest; Nor wilt thou understand Thou art my sun, my rose, my day, my morrow My lady proud and sweet! I bring thee treasure of a priceless sorrow, To lay before thy feet. -- Celia Thaxton. in Scribneti for Avjus A French Suicide. One of those extraordinary suicic peculiar to Paris took place quite cently. An elderly man entered s Church of Notre Dame and ascend one of the towers, after having paid j usual two sous required from visitt There was nothing remarkable in bearing, and no one paid particular tention to him. When he had attai the highest point to which visitors allowed to mount, he raised himself the wall which runs round the top of tower, and after looking down for a ) ment plunged from the dizzy height, fell in the Cour du Presbytere, ant course was picked up quite dead.